Two of the most powerful musical experiences I can recall have to do with Mozart’s Requiem, a work whose sheer beauty and sublime pathos surpasses almost any other in my opinion. I was a sophomore in college the night I received the news from home that one of my favorite aunts had passed away after years of battling the same disease that had claimed my own father six years earlier. I went back to my dorm room and started playing a CD of the Requiem with Robert Shaw conducting the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus. My German roommate wondered out loud if this was the best thing I could think to do at such a time, and I responded that it was. Three thousand miles away from home, Mozart comforted me like nothing else could.
A few years later, I was a graduate student at the Eastman School of Music watching in shock as the events of 9/11 unfolded. In that month I joined a volunteer chorus and orchestra of students and faculty for a benefit performance of the Requiem. I don’t know how much money was raised at that concert, but I remember clearly that the experience of performing that work for the first time, and for such an occasion, was like pouring a soothing balm over my own frayed nerves and wounded soul, and I imagine it was much the same for the other people in attendance.
—Adriana Martínez
I did two wonderful Mozart concerts this year: one in Trenton, N.J., where I performed some relatively unknown Mozart motets for three voices, the “Exsultate jubilate,” and another concert, which was the Requiem. Both concerts stayed with me for days afterward and gave me a warm glow that only Mozart can give. In the Trenton concert, there was also a performance of a Mozart piano sonata that was absolutely breathtaking and will also stay with me forever.
There is something about experiencing Mozart—hearing it, performing it, etc.—that is very uplifting to me and, in a way, a religious experience of the best kind that has to do not with divinity but with true beauty.
—Susan Whitenack, Bucks County, Pa.
Friends and I put together a few scenes from Mozart’s The Marriage of Figaro for a couple of local performances. We got together our own costumes and worked out staging—just no sets. The performances were a hit! (P.S. I think it is cool that Mozart’s birthday and my birthday are just a day apart!)
—Sharon Buck, Woodinville, Wash.
Funny, but I unknowingly started to celebrate [Mozart’s] birthday last fall. I fell in love with his “Alleluia,” but had never finished learning it. Little did I know that I’d have to prepare it in a hurry, and that it would be for my television debut!
I had auditioned for a small company and hadn’t heard back from the director. The director had liked me enough to try to put me in an opera highlights show that didn’t work out. Oh well, onward then. I went about my summer of 2005 blissfully. Then out of the blue I received a call from that director asking if I knew Mozart’s “Alleluia.” I said I did, but not the whole motet. She only wanted the “Alleluia” and said she’d fit me into a concert she was putting on which would be filmed for TV. I was excited and accepted, not registering the part about “filmed for TV.”
I prepared the “Alleluia.” The day of the performance came with many obstacles and even more nerves when I saw all the lights and cameras! I sang that wonderful music in a beautiful church, trying my best to play it off and pretend I wasn’t nervous. Only my hands clasped in a death grip a la the divas of old betrayed the chaos going on inside me while I sang those mad, joyous, two and a half minutes of praise written by one of my favorite composers. What an experience!
Since then, I’ve celebrated his birthday listening to NPR’s specials aired on Fridays and reading all I can online about him. I’ve sung his “Alleluia” twice more, falling in love with the wickedly difficult piece more and more. Susanna, his clever little maid from Le nozze di Figaro has given me the best audition I ever sang and Zaide’s aria has been the meltingly beautiful gem I discovered which I must put into my repertoire.
—Jacqueline Pimienta,
West Palm Beach, Fla.
Sadly many opera companies today are dropping Mozart because there are so few performers who can sing his music well. I believe this is due to the fact that singers for the last thirty years have not been taught to sing on the breath, giving life to each note no matter how fast the tempo.
If a singer of today keeps time with the original tempo the voice has too much air, and if he slows down the voice becomes labored and skips notes in fast passages. Where have all the teachers gone that are willing to teach the voice to be agile, clear, and full without losing its natural beauty?
—Chrissa Gaines, Omaha, Neb.
As an undergrad student at Augustana College in Sioux Falls, S.D., this last year we performed Mozart’s Requiem with two area church choirs and the South Dakota Symphony chamber orchestra. It was an experience to be remembered. I sang the alto solo/quartet in the “Benedictus” and it was incredible. The hall was packed and the audience couldn’t stop talking about it! It was truly a remarkable way to remember the master and how his music can still reach people anywhere, even in Sioux Falls.
—Megan Ihnen
I’ve had the chance to celebrate the 250th Mozart year on stage many times this year. I sang Sarastro at Teatro la Fenice in Venice in the spring, and this fall was all Mozart: Sarastro at the Deutsche Oper Berlin, Leporello at Teatro Grande di Brescia, Teatro Sociale di Como, and Teatro Ponchielli Cremona, and Commendatore at Florentine Opera of Milwaukee. And I’m looking forward to singing Osmin at Teatro Lirico di Cagliari. In July I happened to visit both Mozart’s and Da Ponte’s birthplaces: I spent a week coaching Leporello with Enza Ferrari in Ceneda (Vittorio Veneto) where Da Ponte was born, and from there I drove to Salzburg to see my friend Simon O’Neill in a rehearsal of The Magic Flute.
—Ethan Herschenfeld
I started the year by listening to the live feed from Salzburg on Mozart’s birthday and watching Amadeus that following weekend. I also read a few of his letters, trying to get to know him more. Additionally, knowing that 2006 was Mozart’s 250th, I had decided in my mind that I would somehow get to Salzburg and pay tribute—and last summer I did.
Although it was rainy and cold, I managed to get to the Geburtshaus, Wohnhaus, special Mozart birthday museum and of course his statue on the Mozartplatz. I also saw Die Zauberflöte on TV, broadcast as a part of the Festspiel (Muti conducting the Vienna Philharmonic). I had done Third Lady in Salzburg as a member of the Austrian American Mozart Academy in 2001, so my entire time there just brought back wonderful memories. It is such a gift that I could celebrate my favorite composer in the town of his birth. It’s not something I will ever forget.
—Suzanne Levine, New York, N.Y.
I was Third Lady in a production of The Magic Flute at Des Moines Metro Opera last summer, and a number of cast members were asked to do a round table discussion with a senior citizens group. As any singer knows, whenever you are dealing with the public, you can be thrown a curveball! This was a lively group, and many good questions were asked. A good time was being had by all, and then suddenly, we got the curveball question. The exchange went like this:
Senior Dude: So, how much do you guys make? (Uncomfortable silence ensues as singers all look at each other, willing someone to come up with a polite but dismissive answer.)
Perky, cute QOTN: Never enough! (Singers laugh, hoping she has been charming enough to deter him, but…)
Senior Dude: No, really! Ballpark figure. (More uncomfortable silence.)
Charming, classy Tamino: Well, it really depends on a lot of different factors…
Persistent Senior Dude: Just give me a ballpark figure.
Me, polite but no-nonsense: Singers don’t really talk about that.
Not-Taking-the-Hint Senior Dude: Oh, c’mon, just give me a ballpark.
The Speaker, firmly and basso: NO.
End of discussion! —Cindy Sadler
